


Elder or Meadowsweet

by InsolitaParvaPuella



Category: Majo no Takkyuubin | Kiki's Delivery Service
Genre: F/M, Jiji - minor, Post-Canon, Potions, Pre-Relationship, Puppy Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:21:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25710529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsolitaParvaPuella/pseuds/InsolitaParvaPuella
Summary: Kiki tries her hand at potion-making.
Relationships: Kiki/Tombo
Comments: 8
Kudos: 39
Collections: Rare Pairs Exchange 2020





	Elder or Meadowsweet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [perkyplum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/perkyplum/gifts).



The book of flowers her mother sent her had beautiful hand-drawn illustrations that she’d stayed awake past her usual bedtime in order to admire, but Kiki still wasn’t sure if she was holding elder or meadowsweet flowers. She squinted at the bunch of white blossoms. Five white petals, but that was true of both elder and meadowsweet. She glanced down at the book again and flipped between the two sections.

“Jiji, what do you think?” she asked, glancing over to where he’d been sitting before. He wasn’t there, and when Kiki looked around she couldn’t spot him amongst the dirt and leaf cover.

“Over here,” he meowed, and Kiki followed his voice up into a tree. He was looking down on her with his big eyes as though astonished to be asked for advice.

“What are you doing up there?” she groused. She turned her attention back to the flowers and decided they were probably elder. She wrapped them as best as she could with the rest of her discoveries in a sheet of baking paper Osono had let her take. It wasn’t an elegant bundle, but it would have to do. Jiji shouted back that he was getting a better view.

“We’re done, let’s go home!” she called to Jiji, trudging over the uneven ground and roots to the tree she’d rested her broom against. She adjusted her bag to sit more comfortably, mounted her broom, and rose quickly until she was passing through the treetops. Jiji leaped from his perch onto Kiki’s shoulder, and the broom barely swayed at the impact.

As Jiji dropped from her shoulder to sit more to the front of her broom, Kiki corrected the tiny sways and dips of her broom through quick changes in her grip. She leaned forward slightly and the broom flew smoothly towards Koriko, still rising and accelerating.

“Did you find what you wanted?” Jiji asked, turning back to look at her. His voice carried well over the sound of rushing air.

“I think so,” she answered. “There are a lot of small white flowers with white petals.” The broom stopped ascending. The weather was pleasant and mild, but it got cold if she flew too high. Kiki flew near the road she’d followed out of the city. A few cars were driving into and out of Koriko, and she kept pace with a reddish one.

Flying back to the bakery was as easy and familiar as the walk from the village to her childhood home at this point. With the clock tower as a familiar landmark, she could find the church spire, then the open square with the tall fountain, and then the winding road back to the bakery. An updraft from the sun-warmed pavement pushed Kiki higher and she let it, rising in a gentle arc. She couldn’t help her delighted giggle at the puff of warm air below, and the little thrill in her stomach as she dropped in a similar arc.

“Hey, is that—” Jiji said, and Kiki looked down to the street below, where someone with a familiar gait was walking.

“Tombo!” she called, dropping down and forward towards him. She slowed down a little as she got nearer, and she dismounted just as she was going to touch down, jogging to a stop in front of him. Jiji had already leaped off the broom and ran to catch up to them.

“Kiki!” Tombo said in reply, his face breaking into a smile. He took a few quick steps towards her landing spot while Kiki smoothed down her dress. “Off on another delivery?”

“Not quite. My mother sent me a book of herbalism and potion-making, and I thought I’d try it out.” It seemed a shame to see Tombo and only share a few words, so before he could respond she continued, “Would you help me out with it?”

“With potion-making? I’m not sure what a guy like me could do to help. At least with flying I know a bit about aviation,” he said, but his tone wasn’t disinterested.

“Jiji is always off with the kittens, so I could do with some company,” she said, ignoring Jiji’s “hey!”. It wasn't like Tombo hadn’t been her guest before when she wanted a friend but her cat was busy. He’d hung the sign over her upstairs room, and they’d shared afternoon treats with tea and coffee (a Koriko trend that had only just reached her village before she left) on a few occasions.

“If you don’t mind hearing all the aviation club news,” he said. Kiki shook her head.

“Not at all.”

“Then lead the way, Miss Witch!”

Kiki had landed near the bakery, so it was only a short walk. Jiji did peel off outside the bakery to conduct his own business, while the other two walked through the bakery. Osono greeted them merrily with a wave before returning to a customer, the baby sleeping in her bassinet behind the counter. Fukuo nodded in acknowledgement as Kiki passed, and she missed the slightly harder stare he gave Tombo.

After taking a minute to bring up more water, Kiki and Tombo got settled. She started the stove to reheat the kettle while Tombo gave her an update on the aviation club’s progress.

“The glass is the last thing we have to figure out, then we’ll have all the parts together,” he said while Kiki pulled the baking paper package from her bag. It was sloppily wrapped, the paper crushed in some spots, and when she opened it she winced. The flowers were a little bent and bruised from being jostled around. Still, she was following the easiest recipe in the book, so it had to be forgiving about the quality of plants used.

“So, what are you making?” Tombo asked, leaning forward in his chair to get a better look of the flowers.

“My mother’s hair tonic. Her skill’s potion-making, and she made it for me every week. It makes your hair extra soft.” It didn’t keep well, and so she hadn’t taken any of it with her when she left. When she’d had longer hair her mother had been the one to comb the tonic in and then wrap it up with one of her father’s old, stained shirts. Then she’d cut her hair short just before she turned thirteen and combed the tonic in and washed it out on her own. She’d felt very mature back then.

With her knife and cutting board (her mother would _not_ be happy to hear Kiki was using kitchen tools for potion-making), Kiki started chopping the flowers up.

“What’s your mom like?” Tombo asked, and Kiki only looked up for a second to see him enjoying a second shortbread. She looked down at her roughly-chopped flowers. She very suddenly got a pang of nostalgia for her mother’s broom, and the way it was so agreeable and flew smoothly through every kind of weather.

“She’s very kind, and very wise,” Kiki said. “She always knows what’s best. I used to get annoyed all the time because of that.” She moved the flowers from her cutting board into her empty pot. Normally she used it to boil milk or make porridge. She poured the kettle water into the pot and set it on the stove, then moved the kettle to the table. Tombo got started making himself a cup of coffee.

“She sounds like a great mom,” he said. “Will she ever come here?”

“To Koriko? I don’t know. She’s my home’s resident witch, so a lot of people are counting on her, and I’m not supposed to see her until after my training period is over. But maybe after?” She stirred the chopped up bits of plants and waved her hand over the pot, copying her mother’s gestures precisely. This was her favourite part: the bits and pieces started to slowly melt into the water, which turned a deep green colour and became fragrant.

“Are you going to stay here when your training period is over?” Tombo asked. She looked over to him again and felt a little thrill in her stomach, like she was riding an updraft. He looked—not happy, but like he _could_ be very happy. Something next to happiness.

“I haven’t decided yet,” she said, her voice rising in pitch just a little. She looked back at her potion. The flower parts had all dissolved. She made her next gesture, letting her fingers trace a large circle around the pot, thinking of her mother in her greenhouse, all the dried flowers and the little table for guests to watch and take tea and cake while they waited. “I don’t have to stay in one place for my training, but I don’t want to leave Koriko. Maybe when it’s over I’ll go home for a while.”

“I guess you’d get homesick a lot. Being far from home is tough.” Tombo was on his feet, keeping a careful distance from the stove but peering into the pot as best as he could. He sipped noisily from his cup.

“Sometimes. But—huh?” Kiki examined the potion. It wasn’t changing colour like it should. She did her gesture again and it stubbornly remained emerald green, though it did release a little puff of white fragrant steam. “It doesn’t usually look like this…”

She took the pot off the heat and consulted the book.

“Though this book’s descriptions are largely accurate, one must note that an area’s character may change the qualities of the herbs and thus the character of the final potion. Do not be alarmed if a potion is not entirely similar to description,” she read aloud. She wafted the scent from the potion to her and sniffed. It smelled right. Was this just Koriko’s character shining through in the colour?

“Is it all right?” Tombo was still keeping a respectful distance, but she was pretty sure he was trying to read over her shoulder.

“I think so,” Kiki said. “I should be able to test it out.”

If Jiji was here he’d be telling her to throw it out in a flowerbed and try again another day, once she had knives and pots and spoons for potion-making. She decided it wasn’t unsafe. None of the components were toxic, so the end result would be safe as well, she reasoned. She poured the potion into her clean soup bowl to cool, sitting at the table and stirring it idly with her comb.

“You know, there’s an annual musician’s festival coming up,” Tombo said, taking his seat once again.

“What’s it like?” Koriko was not shy about its festive nature, Kiki had learned. These were a people prepared to rain paper down to celebrate something at a moment’s notice. She could only wonder what kind of official festivals such a city would have.

“Musicians from all over the country get together and just play every kind of music you can imagine for three days. It’s like having a radio that plays everything. You wanna come?” That happiness-adjacent look was in his eyes again.

“If Osono gives me the day off. Will everyone be there?” Kiki was thinking of the aviation club, all those girls and boys who’d made her nervous when she was still new to the city. She wasn’t friends with all of them yet, but one of the girls came to see her in the bakery from time to time, and all of them were at least cordial to her.

“Uh…” Tombo paused, his hand going to the back of his head. “Maybe. They’ll probably come and go. Is it okay if it’s just the two of us for parts of it?”

For a moment, Kiki was startled into silence. She hadn't thought about that before. “Yeah,” she said, her voice a little softer than expected. She felt very suddenly like she was high in the air, allowed to go wherever she wanted and paralyzed by the vast blue sky in front of her. It left her a little winded.

“Great!” Tombo squawked. He cleared his throat. “Great,” he said again. “It’ll be great.”

Looking for something else to say, Kiki dipped her little finger in the tonic. Warm, but not scalding hot. “It’s ready!” she said. Then she stopped. Alone, or with her mother or even Osono she’d just take off her dress to avoid stains. The idea of doing that in front of Tombo was mortifying. She froze, running through her options. Asking him to leave would be rude, and the thought of explaining why made her want to dissolve between the floorboards. But her dress was dark, maybe with a towel she could avoid the worst of the stains?

She could feel her cheeks getting hot. Kiki stood up with more energy and fury than was strictly necessary, her chair clattering loudly backwards. She’d need to buy a new towel, but the sacrifice was essential, she decided, flapping it open.

“Are you alright, Kiki?” Tombo asked, sounding alarmed. “It doesn’t have to be the two of us if you don’t want.”

“Not that!” she burst. “No, I’m fine,” she said, trying to bring her voice down to a reasonable level. She wrapped the towel around her shoulders and fetched her washing basin, a new purchase she’d finally been able to afford now that her business was better-known in the city. Carefully, she poured water into her pitcher, too. With her set-up complete, she sat down again.

Kiki dipped her hands into the potion and began smoothing it over her hair and massaging it into her scalp. It was a soothing rhythm, wetting her hands and then spreading the tonic into her hair and scalp. Tombo told her about one time he and some of his friends went to hear a band and wound up dodging a manager all evening; they’d been too young to enter the dance hall. Kiki was no stranger to rule-breaking, but she’d never thought of sneaking into a dance hall before, if only because her village “dance hall” was open to all ages and also served several other duties.

The whole room smelled strongly of flowers. It wasn’t exactly like her mother’s greenhouse, but Kiki still felt a pang of longing for a morning eating cake with a customer like Miss Dora and watching her mother work.

"In the end, the manager only threw out one guy: the dog," Tombo chuckled. Kiki burst into laughter, and the longing disappeared. She began to drag her comb through her hair, ensuring every strand was coated in tonic.

When her hair was sufficiently wet, she wrapped it up in the towel. “Now it has to sit for ten minutes,” she explained to Tombo. She clicked on the radio, more out of habit than anything, and turned the volume down. It was a news broadcast, but there was a music program coming after. She made herself a cup of cocoa, carefully adjusting her towel.

When the wait was over and the music had begun, she unwrapped her hair, making sure to keep the towel over her shoulders. She looked at her wash basin and the pitcher and tried to imagine washing her hair while leaning over the basin. In the village she could use the running water, but there was no running water in the room.

“I think I need a hand,” Kiki said, holding out the pitcher. “Could you pour the water while I scrub out the tonic?”

“Uh, sure,” Tombo said, taking the pitcher. Kiki put the shallow basin on the table and leaned over it. Tombo was standing so close to her side they were nearly touching. Her heart leapt for a moment, riding another updraft.

“Go ahead,” she said, bending over the basin and pushing her hair away from her neck. A few drops of cool water hit the back of her neck, and then a stream flowed over her hair. Kiki scrubbed her hair, eyes closed, keeping her thoughts on the sweet floral smell of the tonic and not how she occasionally bumped her shoulder into Tombo’s leg. A second pitcher of water was needed to wash out all the tonic, and by the end Kiki’s fingers and ears were very cold.

The water in the basin was a deep emerald green, but it smelled exactly right. Smiling, Kiki shook out her head and ruffled her wet hair into place to air dry. She glanced over to Tombo. He looked startled.

“Is something the matter?” she asked, and Tombo jerked his gaze from her hair to her face. He was so close he had to turn his head to look her in the eyes.

“Is the tonic… supposed to make your hair green?” he asked, and Kiki’s stomach dropped into freefall. She went immediately for her hand mirror on her bed and held it up to get a good look at her hair. In the bright afternoon light it looked unmistakably green. A very dark shade, it would probably look black in the dark, but definitely green. She dropped the mirror back on her bed and grasped at her damp, verdant hair.

“Oh no! It must have been meadowsweet!” she cried out, mostly to herself. She didn’t look at her guest. “I must look really dumb right now.”

“Dumb? No, not at all!” Tombo said, his voice breaking suddenly. “It’s just different! But it’s a really beautiful colour!”

Kiki had always been a little self-conscious about her looks. Her mother had a natural, settled beauty that Kiki had always felt was out of her reach, and in the city there were plenty of pretty girls and women wearing modern fashions. Her dark, plain dress and country-girl fashion still felt out of place. In the moment she saw her hair in an unnatural shade, she’d felt crushed. And she still wasn’t happy with her mistake.

But Tombo’s compliment had helped.

“You look even more magical now,” he continued, sounding bashful and a step or two nearer. Kiki’s heart fluttered a little. Fashionable might be out of reach, but _mysterious_ and _magical_ felt good, too.

“Do you really think so?” she asked in a small voice.

“Yeah, for sure. It’s _avant-garde_.” The word was new to Kiki, introduced to her by one of the aviation club members, and she was pretty sure Tombo was using it wrong. But it still felt nice to hear. She turned around again, seeing him stiff-shouldered and flushed, but smiling a little.

Feeling all sorts of things at once and not sure what else to do, Kiki burst into a fit of giggles. Tombo chuckled, his shoulders relaxing.

“Is it still okay if it’s just the two of us sometimes?” Kiki asked, feeling a little nervous, but mostly full of a helpless giddiness. Better to laugh than cry or get angry about her hair, she thought.

“Yeah,” Tombo said. “The musicians are gonna love you.”

And the musicians did love her, some of them wanting to know how to get their own hair that colour, but the best part of the music festival was somewhere in the middle, listening to a jovial pub band after some friends had left and before some others arrived. Kiki looked over at Tombo during a lively tune and saw him looking at her as if she’d enchanted him, not her hair. Her blush clashed with her dark green hair, but he didn’t seem to mind that at all.


End file.
